The Unheard Discussion
by Ellarooney
Summary: A brief glimpse into the reality of Tom and Daisy's relationship. What does Daisy really think of Tom and Gatsby? This is the conversation between Daisy and Tom that took place after Tom arrived home from the accident: the night before Tom and Daisy leav


_The Great Gatsby_ Intervention

It was nearing 9.30 as Daisy sat alone at the dining table, listening to the silence of the house. The night had brought relief from the day's scorching heat and aside from the occasional crack of wood as the house cooled, there was no noise. Even the hands of the clock on the mantelpiece remained frozen at 12.30 and the trees outside stood motionless in the stagnant air. Daisy had intentionally left any lights off and, as she sat in the darkness, she feared, as she often did, the moment someone might turn them on and expose her for what she really was.

Head in hands, she pondered the events of the day. With a shudder she remembered the jolt of contact - she could still hear the woman's shouting, abruptly cut short by the thump of metal against flesh. But that needed be pushed to the back of her mind now - it was Tom she needed to think about.

In the heat of the day with both Jay and Tom in the same room she had been utterly confused, but with the change in temperature came newfound clarity. She knew what she wanted. Looking down at her wedding ring, she thought of everything it represented: her love for Tom, their inherited wealth and the flamboyant lifestyle that came with it. All of the things that made her miserable yet defined who she was.

At last she heard the crunch of gravel break through the silence as Tom pulled up at the front of the house. While he spoke with Nick and Jordan outside, she collected herself, preparing for the worst. He was telling the butler to call a taxi when Daisy glided up to him with a radiant smile upon her face.

"Tom darling! You're home!" she cooed, planting a kiss on his cheek in a desperate attempt to pretend the previous 12 hours had never occurred.

Tom looked taken aback and examined Daisy as if trying to remember why he should be angry with her.

Jordan chose this moment to stride in through the front door, looking slightly vexed. She gave the couple an appraising look and, deciding this was not a conversation she wanted to be involved in, mumbled an excuse and left the room.

"Don't think I've forgiven you for your little display at lunch today," growled Tom, vaguely recalling the drama that had played out in the Plaza Hotel earlier. "If you think I'll let you embarrass me like that again you're wrong, but for now I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course," obliged Daisy, confused.

In a few brisk words, Tom had managed to dismiss the idea of Gatsby posing any kind of threat to him; however, Daisy was more concerned with Tom's evident distraction. She had expected him to arrive fuming at her but his thoughts were clearly occupied by something else. Looking into his face, she noticed his eyes were red as if he had been crying.

"That man of yours, with the pink suit," said Tom responding to Daisy's perplexed expression, "he's a killer and a coward. Oh yes, I know it was him and he's going to be found out soon enough. Left her - Myrtle Wilson - dead on the street and he may as well have killed her husband with the state he's in. Wouldn't trust the poor man with his own life right now."

Daisy's eyes widened as she struggled to maintain her composure. Not only had Tom confirmed that she was the cause of someone's death, but he had given her victim an identity. Daisy knew that this would be a problem even she would be at odds to deal with, but the next thought that entered her head was the giddy possibility of getting away with it. Tom's assumption made this very easy.

It then occurred to her that Jay was still outside, waiting to be called to her aid, waiting for her to fulfil his impossible dream. She knew this would never happen: to her, Gatsby could only ever serve as a temporary remedy to the dull ache of her future, and so, she let Tom lead her into the dining room.

"The only problem is," Tom said, turning on the light and sitting her down at the table laden with food and drink, "what if the small-brained man tells the cops it was you? God knows he's spent his whole life avoiding them, no way he'd let something as small as killing a woman get in the way of his grand plans."

Having collected herself, Daisy was now ready to play along with Tom. It was something they were both well practised at.

"Oh gosh Tom, of course. Goodness knows I'm terrified. I can't even think straight. What do you propose we do?" she whispered her words shaping the very air around them.

Tom covered her hand in his and it was then that something occurred to her. "Tom, Myrtle Wilson and … your … that woman on the phone -" she cut off when she saw Tom's expression stiffen.

It was suddenly obvious and Tom confirmed the fact by averting his gaze and nodding his head slightly. In the moments of silence that followed, the couple each came to the same conclusion: that day had sealed their fate in too many ways to ignore. Too much had gone wrong; too much was out in the open. It was time that they did what they had done so many times before. Move on.

Daisy looked up. Upon the mantelpiece the clock had started ticking again.


End file.
